Freedom Winds
by MechanicFreak
Summary: The adrenaline pumping and the racing of her heart. The wildness of the wind and the harshness of the thrashing sea. The slight sting of the thorn scratches on her ankles, and the snag of a twig in her hair. It was these moments that Lulu lived for, and without them, she would, inevitably, be driven insane.
1. Chapter 1

Lulu held her parasol tightly as lightning streaked across the sky. The lacy parasol was designed for show, and sun protection, not actual use against the rain, and it was quickly becoming damaged beyond repair by the heavy rain.

The wind whipped the hem of her dress across her knees, and her dark hair was ripped from it's once perfect bun, but none of these things deterred the girl who stood alone at the shore.

She would have to return soon, back home, but before she could even consider moving away from the wild sea that reflected her inner turmoil, she knew she would have to bear the wind and the icy chill for a little longer.

She didn't have long before her parents would notice her absence, and she planned to take every spare second he had standing there like no proper woman should in such a downpour, gazing out at the sea.

"My Lady? My Lady, are you out there?!" A sweet beckoning voice called out over the crashing of the waves and the howling of the wind.

Lulu spun around, desperately trying to find the source of the voice, before it found her.

She wasn't allowed out of that mansion, and if there was any suspicion she was sneaking out, the shackles around her ankles would become unceasingly tight.

Running in the opposite direction of the voice, Lulu's legs carried her fast, weaving between the familiar orange trees, and some rose thorns tore at the skin of her bare legs, but she knew she couldn't stop as she panted hard, running straight back into the birdcage she called her home to have iron shackles close around her wrists and ankles once more.

Cold wind caressed her bare neck as brown locks escaped their prison and fell between her shoulders.

The adrenaline pumping and the racing of her heart. The wildness of the wind and the harshness of the thrashing sea. The slight sting of the thorn scratches on her ankles, and the snag of a twig in her hair.

It was these moments that Lulu lived for, and without them, she would, inevitably, be driven insane.

* * *

**Hmm. I'm kinda weirded out that I can turn a happy fun game into something depressing...**

**I was playing ACWW, and I had my character stand at the beach, I was playing at night see ('Cause I'm a rebel like that, I was supposed to be in bed) and a sudden stream of questions invaded my head. "Why is she standing there?" "What is she feeling?" "Is she hiding from someone?" So I decided to answer those questions with this! I just couldn't shake it from my mind**


	2. Chapter 2

_Dear Diary,  
I can't stand it here. It's suffocating. It's demeaning. It's cruel. I can't take it. When will someone save me? Am I Rapunzel? Will someone ever come? They're going to find out that I've been breaking out, but I can't bring myself to stop. I've got to run faster, dash harder. I found a note in a bottle by the beach. It was a plea for help, from a girl, who was isolated by her parents, restricted to her room. Her home is a prison to her.  
I'm glad I picked it up. After all, how was I supposed to know it would just wash back up? I wouldn't want anyone else to find it. I wasn't hoping it would reach anyone, I just needed to vent, to expel my feelings from my heart and my head in an angry mess of ink and hatre.  
There was a boy at the door today, but nobody was home and I was forbidden from answering his loud, irregular raps on the wood.  
I watched from my window though. He was unshaven, a grey beard that hung down to his chest, conrasting with short chocolate coloured hair. His shirt was wet and even from my room on the second floor I could smell the sea on him.  
He was carrying my parasol, ripped, torn and damaged from the weather. I had deemed it smarter to ditch the useless thing in a bush and say I lost it, then to explain how I had damaged it so.  
That scratch on my leg is bothersome, I have to keep it covered so no questions are asked. The sting is oddly refreshing though. I suppose it's best not to dwell on it.  
I wonder what that boy is like._

_Lulu. 4th July 2012_

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I saw that boy again. He keeps trying to return my parasol. I had to answer the door, otherwise it would fall into the hands of my parents. He smells even worse close up. I wish I was free to smell as disgustingly as he. _

_Lulu. 6th July 2012._


End file.
